


The Littlest Montague

by bibliotaph



Series: Francis Montague [1]
Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Brotherly Love, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25416604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliotaph/pseuds/bibliotaph
Summary: Taking place after book one when Monty and Percy decided to stay in Greece and live on Santorini island. Four years have passed and Monty decided to visit his mother while his father was away on a business trip. He meets Francis, the littlest Montague, who is now four years old and instantly falls in love with him. However, secrets are revealed and Monty has no choice but to kidnap Francis and take him back to the island with him. How will Percy react when Monty returns home with a child? Let alone the last heir of the Montague family...
Relationships: Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton
Series: Francis Montague [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840909
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	The Littlest Montague

**Author's Note:**

> My friend and I wrote this together, you can check out his works at mvsic_bxxks_stvdy or attentionhoard on Tumblr. We didn't know the littlest Montague was named Adrien but we already created Francis by the time we found out. So I hope you love him as much as we do. Enjoy!

It had been four years since Monty had last mounted these steps and entered the door of the estate. He thought back to the last time he had been home, how he had refused to give his mother a hug, too hungover, and eager to be on the way with Percy. Now, as he laid his hand on the doorknob and let himself in, he felt much older than the four years that had passed. So much had changed in his life, but he had come to realize that it would be unfair to never say goodbye to his mother. The front door creaked as he stepped in, and he looked around. The house was quiet and just the smell of it reminded Monty so strongly of his childhood that he needed a moment to gather himself. He began to walk through the house, peering into rooms, uncertain if he should call out for her or not.

However, he didn’t need to when she appeared across the way, walking gracefully down the long corridor; her chin held high with a smooth expression. Her hair was pulled back into a neat chignon with a lovely lavender gown hiding her ankles. Her heels clicked as she walked, hands settling in front of her as she set forward toward one of the parlors where her youngest child would be practicing his French with his tutor. Monty watched as she did a double-take, noticing him finally after so long. She lifted a smooth hand to her perfectly colored lips and whispered. “Henry?” Her voice small but echoing the walls as she stared at her son with shock.

Monty couldn’t help the small smile creep up his lips. He had changed in the last couple of years, though he had grown no taller. The most notable change was, of course, his lack of an ear and the scars that covered the side of his face. They had faded slightly in the time, but they would never disappear. His clothes were not so fine as the ones his parents had put him in, and there were freckles over his nose and more strength in his limbs that suggested he had been working in the sun. He also did not have a half-drunken or hungover look about him, as he so often had when he had lived here. “Mother!” He greeted, striding towards her.

His mother blinked quickly, holding back her tears, unbelieving that her firstborn was alive, present, and scarred. Of course, Monty had sent a letter to his father years ago and he only told her that he was now living in Greece, though since then, Monty had not written another letter. She willed her body to move, her arms reaching out as if he was merely a mirage, desperate to touch even for a moment as though he would disappear.

And Monty didn’t hesitate, he hurried to her and wrapped his arms around her in a close embrace, pressing his face against her shoulder and inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. “Mother...” He whispered softly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. I missed you.”

She held him close, her arms squeezed his torso, and smelt the salt from the sea off his clothing. “Henry,” she breathed, “you’re home.” Her head rested over the side of his unscarred face. A hand rested over the back of his head and she pushed back slightly to take a look at him. “You look so different, my son.” A whisper of a smile twitched across her lips. She placed a hand over his scars and winced. “Dear lord... Henry, what happened?”

“What? Oh-!” Monty laughed, patting at his own missing ear. He was so used to it now he hardly thought of it. “Just a mishap with a handgun, no cause for alarm. Though I’ve been told it it was a few inches to the side, I wouldn’t be quite so lively anymore. Felicity stitched it up well, do you see?”

Monty’s mother looked horrified for a moment - with her mouth open in a small ‘o’ shape and eyes wide. “Oh, my heavens...” She mourned as she inspected her son’s missing ear. Indeed the stitching was excellent and for a moment she was incredibly impressed that her daughter knew what to do. It wasn’t common for a woman to know, well, anything that had to do with the medical field. But Mrs. Montague was thankful that her son was alright. The wound looked healed. “How horrific.” She exclaimed as she shifted her gaze back to his eyes.

“It’s not so bad, really,” Monty said again, feeling his heartache at the concern written on his mother’s face. “It makes a fantastic story, everyone wants to know my heroic tale of loss and recovery.

His mother smiled faintly. That sounded like her son. “You’ve changed so much yet you’re still my Henry...” She observed. “...you‘re just as handsome as you were four years ago... even more so! You look healthy, which I love to see.”

“I’ve not been drinking, if you can believe it,” Monty said with a laugh. “Well, one drink a week. But no more. Per-“ He broke off suddenly, stopping himself from mentioning Percy. He had no idea how much of his letter his father might have shared with his mother."

His mother smiled at that bit of information, not minding his sudden cut off, and tucked her arm under Monty’s so they could walk while they talked. “Really?” She sounded fascinated. “What inspired you?” She asked, genuinely interested. She remembered the years before he left, he always came home drunk out of his wits and it had always worried her, always tried to encourage him to quit. She wondered what had transpired to free him from an ugly addiction,

“Oh, you know. For my health.” Monty said. It was not entirely untrue, though of course, Percy had been the main push. He walked alongside her, feeling at ease despite being in his old house. “How have things been, here?” He prompted.

His mother smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Quiet. Without you or Felicity around I haven’t had my hands as full. Though, Francis is a wild one.” She chuckled. “We’ve decided to start him early with his studies but, unfortunately, he just doesn’t sit still long enough. I was just heading there now, in fact. He’s with a tutor but it’s nearing the end of his time. Would you like to see him?” She asked. Now that she thought about it, Francis hadn’t met his other siblings.

“Erm.” Monty thought of the wrinkled, squalling little creature that he remembered from the last time he had been home. “...yes, of course, he should get to meet his brother.” He decided. He might as well see the son who would be the heir to this estate.  
Monty’s mother smiled softly, leading him down the corridor with grace. “How is Felicity and Mr. Newton? Have you heard from them?” She asked as they walked.

Monty considered for a moment how he could respond without giving much away. He trusted his mother, but he worried she would pass the information on to his father. “Last I heard from them, they were both doing splendidly.” He said eventually, and she smiled at that. 

“I worry about everyone. I’m happy to hear you are keeping in contact with them. Are you alone? Do tell me you’ve met someone by now.” She exclaimed excitedly as they neared the door to the parlor.

“Well...” Monty smiled faintly, his eyes casting down as he thought of going home to Percy. “Yes, I’ve found someone. And I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

“Oh, darling... I’m glad to hear that.” She squeezed his arm. “You’ll have to tell me all about the lucky women during tea... will you be staying for long?” She asked, pausing at the door to look at him with caring eyes. She seemed eager to hear more about his life.

Monty certainly wasn’t going to correct her on the assumption that his partner was a woman, though he ached to think that he couldn’t tell her all about living with Percy, and the life they had together. “Not long.” He told her gently. “I know father is away now, and I’d like to be gone before he returns.”

Her expression turned stern and she gave him a small, sad, smile. “Of course.” She stated, though her expression said otherwise, her voice was chirpy. “That’s quite alright, I do wish you’d write more.” She hinted as she pushed the doors open. They didn’t squeak nor did they make a dramatic entrance. 

In the middle of the room sat a little boy with stark blonde hair who didn’t look to be paying much attention and automatically noticed the door opening, his head springing around to see who entered. Next to him was his tutor who looked frustrated as he attempted to gather his attention. Their mother walked toward them to ask how Francis was doing, though the tutor had nothing good to say, and instead criticized the boy’s attention span.

Monty was surprised, though he knew he shouldn’t be, at how big The Goblin has grown in his absence. He looked like a proper little man now, dressed clothes that had likely been tailored for Monty and packed away in storage when he outgrew them. He followed his mother, unable to draw his eyes away from his little brother. As his mother spoke to the tutor, Monty extended his hand to the little boy. “Hello, Francis.” He greeted softly.

Francis looked up at the man with hesitant eyes and quickly stood up. His chair made a loud shrill of wood against wood. He winced at the noise and looked nervously at his mother and the tutor who paused their conversation briefly to look at him before resuming. “Hello, sir.” He greeted, his voice was firm and scratchy and childlike despite how dressed up he was.

Monty smiled slightly. He crouched down and took Francis’ little hand, he was surprised how tightly he squeezed, but he returned it with a gentle shake. “Are you having fun with your studies? I never much did...it’s so dim in here, I always got a wicked headache.”

Francis turned his head down slightly, looking shy. “French is... very hard. Like... like English. I haven’t figured which is harder.” He admitted. “But... but I never get headaches.” He told him, smiling.

“Very lucky for you,” Monty said. He was beginning to think the Goblin had been better before it could speak. No headaches? Perhaps his father really was going to get the perfect son to run the estates, some kind of genius who never made errors in the books or was a fool in front of important friends. He sounded so precocious too, although Monty didn’t spend much time with four-year-olds and didn’t know what they were supposed to act like. “Well, good job for not minding the tutors too well. If they think they have the upper hand, they’ll start making the work harder and harder. Best to make them struggle a bit.”

Francis grinned at that. “Mother says I need to stop being so dif...dif...” He paused to think. “...to stop giving them a hard time.” He finished. “And father agrees... he says he’s tired of paying for a new one every week. They don’t like me much.” He told him and shrugged.

Monty’s opinion of the child abruptly shifted. He now found him quite agreeable. “I’m surprised he can find any at all who will step inside this house, after the trouble they had with me. Francis, I’m sure you don’t recognize me at all, but my name is Henry Montague and I’m your older brother.” He wondered if Francis even knew that he and Felicity existed.

Francis cocked his head to the side, but he didn’t look perplexed. His eyes drifted to the wall as he processed what Henry said. “Oh. Mother said I had an older brother and an older sister.” He looked back at Henry and smiled widely. “She said both of you went on a very long trip.” He exclaimed, drawing out the word ‘long’ as if to empathize it. “Are you back? For good?” He asked him.

“Well, no,” Monty admitted. He felt something in his heart tug at the big smile his brother gave him, though he tried his best to quash the instinct. He couldn’t stay, after all, since he’d left Percy behind in Greece.

He watched as Francis’ smile draw up short and he nodded in acceptance, excitement depleting. “Oh. How come?” He asked him, genuinely confused.

“Well - “ Monty felt even worse now, watching his little brother’s excitement deflate. “I have a lovely home that I need to return to, and someone I love very much is waiting there for me. If I didn’t come home...she...would be very sad without me.”

Francis listened as carefully as he could to Monty’s reason. He was paying more attention to him than he was with the tutor or trying at least, his eyes kept flickering around the room and he shifted on his feet, wishing to go outside and play like his mother promised if he was extra good. “Oh.” He leaned closer to Henry’s good ear and cupped his tiny hand over the shell of it. “I—I think father makes mother very sad when he’s home but she smiles more when he’s away because he doesn’t get mad when he’s gone.” He told him. It was a secret he wasn’t able to tell anyone but his brother seemed like the perfect person to tell. “It’s the opposite.” He said, proud that he knew the difference.

Monty’s smile sobered as he listened to Francis’ secret. At the same time, their mother finished speaking to the tutor and dismissed him. She sighed, staring down at the two boys, her eyes tired as she peered down at Francis. “Francis, dear... Mr. Thomas said he won’t be returning. Why is that?”

Monty’s glanced up at their mother and rose to his full height again, awkwardly placing a hand on Francis’ shoulder. “Come on, mother.” He said, putting on one of his classic grins. “I’m sure he can’t possibly be as bad as I was.”

His mother looked at her eldest son and pursued her lips. “No... it’s starting to seem we’re having a little repeat, however.” She said, glancing down at Francis. She shook her head. “I swear, Francis is both you and Felicity in one.”

“What, tremendously gifted and devilishly charming?” Monty joked. “Come on, Mother, you can’t blame him for not wanting to learn French. It’s so damn hard, and we don’t even live in France.”

“It’s good for him to know for the future. You know, they say children learn best when they’re younger.” She resorted calmly. “He will be speaking to men from France once he’s of age, after all.”

Monty fought the urge to let out a sigh. He had enjoyed the initial reunion, but now he was remembering just what burden parents could be on the spirit. “Mother...” He tried, putting on his most sympathy-winning expression. “Can’t you skip the lecture, today? I want more time to get to know my little brother.” He glanced down at Francis. “In fact - I could try and teach him a bit of French. Maybe a bad student makes a good teacher.”

This mother sighed and twisted her hands in front of her. “Oh, alright. It’ll be good for Francis to know who his older brother is.”

Francis looked from his mother back to his brother and tugged his coat. “Can we go outside?”

“Certainly.” Monty agreed, giving his mother a big smile before turning and guiding Francis out of the library with a hand on his back. As soon as they were out of earshot, he said to him. “I’m not really going to make you learn any more French, but you must tell her I did. I could teach you a bit of Greek if you’d like.”

Francis’ eyes widened as he looked up and he nodded quickly. “You know Greek? Isn’t that like, super-duper hard to know?” He asked him.

“Well, I can’t say much,” Monty said, letting out a short laugh. “But I’m quite good at taking drink orders in Greek. I don’t see that being much use to you, though.” He looked down at Francis, removing his hand from his back so the boy could walk of his own volition.

Without his brother’s hand, Francis began to slow just slightly, and his walking became slightly less straight and more with a limb now that he could walk normally. “That’s okay.” He started laughing at himself before saying. “When I start school all the other kids will be impressed! That’s what mother says.”

Monty, however, hardly noticed the sudden strange walk his brother had but slowed to match his pace, chuckling as well. “I’m sure they will be. Although, if you want to really impress your classmates...well, I shouldn’t say. I don’t want to get you in any trouble.”

Francis looked up at Monty quite suddenly and grabbed onto his coat and tugged it. “No! Now you _have_ to tell me!” He exclaimed, his eyes widened and a grin formed across his face.

Monty grinned at the enthusiasm. “Well, alright...” He sighed dramatically as if it was a great cost for him to say. “During my first week at Eton, I put shoe polish on my mathematics teacher’s chair. It was black leather, so it was invisible before he sat down, but then when he stood up, his arse was coal black with it.”

Francis threw his head back and laughed loudly. He imagined how funny that would be if he had done that to Mr. Thomas and his laughter turned into giggles. “Did you get founded out?” He asked him, taking his hand.

Monty was surprised when Francis’ little hand slipped into his, but he didn’t pull away. “Yes. Everyone in the class knew I had done it, and some bastard ratted me out. I had detention for a week. That was the first of many of my crimes, that ultimately got me kicked out of school and sent back here.” He explained as they stepped out into the garden.

Francis simply gaped at him with that news. “You got kicked out? Did you go to a different school?” He asked. The sun shined brightly and he covered his face as his eyes adjusted as they continued walking.

“No, I didn’t.” Monty laughed, also shading his eyes as he looked around the garden. “I was a lot older than you when I got kicked out. I don’t think they thought it was worth trying to send me to a different school. Or, more likely, no other schools would take me.”

Francis frowned at that as he thought it over. His brother seemed very smart and very wise. He wanted to try putting shoe polish on his teacher’s chair. “Why? Did they think you weren’t very smart?” He asked him seriously.

“They...” Monty briefly considered trying to explain some part of what had happened, but quickly decided that it was not the kind of thing for a four-year-old to hear. “They thought I was very good at getting in trouble.” He eventually told him, then shot a grin down at him. “And they were right.”

Francis was quiet for a moment. He thought of all the times he got in trouble with his tutors because he was not paying attention because they were basically like teachers. When he got in trouble with _them_ that usually resulted in getting in trouble with his parents. “I think I’ll get kicked out.” He said with finality. He couldn’t completely comprehend how much effort that would have to take but he thought if his brother got in trouble a lot and got kicked out, then he probably would too.

Monty tried not to wince at the way Francis said the words. He stopped them and crouched in front of Francis. “You shouldn’t, really. Father was...very upset with me when I was kicked out.” He explained. He didn’t elaborate, didn’t want to explain how he had been punished for his deeds.

Francis looked away from Monty but then thought differently of it and made eye contact with him again. He made their hands swing slightly from where they connected. “But I... I get in trouble a lot though.” He said as if that made the conclusion make sense.

Monty fought the urge to smile. Here he had thought that the boy would naturally be the son his father wanted. But clearly, the bastard had a knack for making disobedient children. “I know...I don’t think you’ll get kicked out. Not for just a bit of troublemaking. I did something that made them very, very angry. But I’m sure you won’t do the same.”

Francis swallowed and this time he did look down. His shoes were suddenly very interesting and that’s when he realized his ankle still throbbed a bit from when he ran into his father’s desk after a bad session with a tutor. He squeezed Monty’s hand and with a meek voice, he asked. “Did father hurt you?”

Monty opened his mouth to reply, then suddenly froze up. The implication of the question crashed around in his mind, and he gave Francis a close look. His voice was lower when he asked. “Does he hurt you?”

Francis didn’t say or do anything but his hand squeezed Monty’s tighter. He remembered what his mother told him, that he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. But Monty was being so nice and kind to him. It wasn’t that he trusted easy, but he felt like he’s already known Monty his whole life. Francis’ silence was an answer in itself but he confirmed it when he nodded very slowly, his cheeks flushing with color. 

Monty felt sick to his stomach, as he looked at this tiny, fragile boy and remembered the ways his father had mistreated him when he was young. He could still remember the first blow, the first time he had fallen to the floor. Monty reached forward and pulled Francis into his arms, hugging him to his chest as gently as he could. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled. He was sorry, for leaving, for the fact that he knew how awful his father was and had never thought once that the next heir would be as abused as he had been.

Francis seemed a little surprised when Monty pulled him against his chest. He stood still for a moment before slowly wrapping his arms around his brother. His shoulders shook and Monty thought for a moment he was crying. Francis certainly felt like crying... but his father had said that crying was for babies and he was a big boy now. So instead, he breathed out heavily against his coat. The act itself made it seem like he was crying but he just whimpered softly.

Monty scooped Francis up into his arms, sinking down to sit on the grass and cradling his baby brother close. “Francis, I’m so sorry.” He said again. He didn’t know what else he could say, didn’t know what to do. He planned to leave before the day was out, but now he was seeing so many things he had hardly noticed before. The way Francis flinched so bad. The limp when he walked. The puzzle pieces were connecting and Monty felt so awful.

“Please don’t tell mother I told you,” Francis mumbled into his coat. His words were barely audible over his short breaths. “She told me I-I couldn’t tell anyone but you’re so nice...” He held Monty tighter.

“I won’t tell her. I swear I won’t.” Monty assured him vehemently, feeling himself trembling with anger and his own fear as he looked up at the house. What a horrible place to live and be a child, where mistakes were punished harshly and any deviance was a crime. “How often does he hit you? Every time he’s home? Is it every month, or every week, or...?”

Francis had to think about that for a second. It seemed so far away ago because his father was gone for a trip which seemed to take ages. “Whenever my tutors don’t come back...or if I mumble or don’t make eye contact... he always has a grown-up drink in his hand that I’m not allowed to touch and it makes him angrier,” Francis confessed quietly. He stared out into the gardens behind Monty and watched a bee land on one of the pretty pink flowers.

Monty was suddenly coming up with a god awful plan that he knew Percy would not be pleased with. He looked down at Francis, then glanced the way he was looking, then looked at him again. “Francis, have you ever wanted to go on a trip?”

Francis looked up at him through his pale lashes, his cheeks red with unsheathing tears. “Like the trips father goes away on?” He asked him innocently.

“A bit like that,” Monty said softly. He withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Francis, to wipe his eyes with. “Only, we wouldn’t go to London. We’d go to a lovely little island in a very sunny place - how does that sound?”

Francis took the handkerchief, the action made him breathe heavily again but he covered both his eyes with it and pressed the palms of his hands over his covered eyelids to keep it in place. When he calmed down enough, and let the cloth fall to his hands he said. “I wanna go.”

_Sorry, Percy._ Monty thought, as he gently took the handkerchief and finished cleaning Francis up, drying away his tears. “Then, we’ll go.” He agreed softly. Already he was trying to plan what would need to be done. “You can’t tell mother that we’re going, alright?” He told him softly, making sure Francis was listening. “You must act as if everything is normal. We will go inside and I will eat dinner with the family, and then I will say goodbye to mother and I will leave. Francis, you alone can know that I will come back for you in the night. Do you understand?”

The small boy nodded seriously. “Don’t tell mother... and wait for you to get me.” He repeated. “Should I bring a swimsuit if we’re going to an island?” He asked skeptically.

Monty smiled thinly. “We’ll figure out what sort of clothes you’ll need when I come to get you.” He told him gently. He set Francis back on his feet and tucked his handkerchief away, getting back on his feet and glancing towards the windows of the house. He hoped that no one had seen.

Francis nodded. “Okay,” He grabbed onto Monty’s hand again, and quietly he added. “He’s coming home tonight... a couple of hours after dinner, mother said.” He warned him. “And my bedtime is seven.

Monty’s jaw set at the realization of how much harder this was about to become. “That’s alright.” He soothed Francis softly. “I’ll still come. Try to stay out of his way this evening, if you see him. Just go to bed on time, and I’ll come to get you.” 

"Francis nodded. “I’ll try extra hard.” He promised and then hugged Monty’s legs. “Thank you, Henry. You’re the best big brother I could have ever ask for.”

Monty looked down at Francis, his heart swelling. “Come here you little scrap...” He said, amazed at how affectionate he already felt for the young boy. He pried him off and turned him around, then lifted him up and put him on his shoulders. He had carried Percy like this when they were younger, but it was easy with how little Francis was. It just felt natural. “Let’s have a walk, why don’t we!” He proclaimed, and began to stroll through the gardens, supporting Francis firmly on his shoulders."

Francis squealed excitedly as Monty lifted him up and over his head. His legs dangled over his shoulders and his brother held him still by his legs, Francis was afraid he might fall anyways so he clutched Monty’s chin with both arms. “We can visit Ms. Buttercup and her kids!” He exclaimed, pointing ahead towards a specific tree.

“Yes, of course, we can.” Monty agreed with a laugh, carrying Francis over in that direction like the loyal steed he was. Ms. Buttercup was actually a common bird with three little baby birds in the nest. But Francis named them all despite Monty not being able to tell which is which.

***

The afternoon was passed with games and tomfoolery, till Monty’s back ached from carrying his brother and they both had grass stains on their clothing. Eventually, Monty had to stop it, catching Francis as he ran by and stopping him. “I think I heard mother calling us for dinner. Now, _remember_ what I said.” He enforced with a serious expression.

Francis breathed in heavily due to his run and looked a little confused as he stared up at Monty. He understood quickly enough, however, and nodded hurriedly. “Don’t tell mother and wait for you.” He whispered with a smile. It was a secret just between them.

Good man,” Monty said with a grin and released Francis to go running back towards the house. He followed him at a brisk walk, catching up easily with his longer legs and opening the door for him. Together they went into the dining hall, where servants were laying out dinner for three. Monty glanced around for his mother while Francis ran inside with a giant smile upon his face. 

Their mother was already seated and waited for the two of them with a soft smile on her face to see her little boy grinning after entering with Monty. “Francis, make sure you wash your hands first.” She ordered. Francis gave a shout of agreement and went off into the kitchen and she winced slightly at the noise. “Did you two have fun?” She asked Monty, focusing her attention on her eldest.

“We did.” Monty agreed with a grin. He tried not to feel sick at the thought of what Francis had said, about his mother being sad when Henry Sr came home. He wished there was something he could do for her. Instead, he went behind her chair and set his hands on her shoulders, leaning down to give her a quick peck on the cheek before going to take his own seat. “He’s very energetic. Was I so rambunctious when I was his age?”

His mother smiled brightly at her son’s sweet gesture and she folded her napkin over her lap. “You were just as boisterous as he is at this age.” She confirmed and laughed softly. “You liked to bring the frogs inside and scare your sister with them.”

“Now that you mention it, that does sound like me,” Monty said with a sly grin. He spread his own napkin in his lap and cleared his throat. “He...mentioned that father is coming home tonight. I’ll leave before he arrives. Otherwise, I think things will go badly.”

He watched as her smile slipped slightly and nodded seriously. “Yes... well, he won’t be arriving for another couple of hours, so fill free to stay until however long you’d like before then.” She explained hopefully.

Suddenly, Francis entered the room again with clean hands and sat down next to Monty, grinning widely. “Mother, Henry picked me up and I got to see Ms. Buttercup and her babies really close up!” He blubbered on excitedly as the food was being set by the servants.

Monty had not missed much about his life here, but he had missed the food. Although he had become quite fond of the local fare where he lived with Percy now, he there was nothing quite so comforting as a home-cooked meal. He enjoyed each course more than the last one until dessert was polished off and he got to his feet. “I should be on my way.” He murmured, wiping his mouth with the napkin.

“Oh!” His mother glanced over to the grandfather clock to check the time. “Oh... the time has passed so quickly.” She sounded mournful as she spoke. She dabbed her napkin over her mouth and one of the servants pulled out her chair as she stood. She walked around the table and reached out for Monty to draw him into a hug. “Thank you for coming to visit, Henry.” She whispered, her eyes closing as she embraced him.

Monty wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close against him. He was well aware that this might be the last time he saw her, especially considering what he planned to do that night. “I love you.” He said quietly. “Stay safe. I’ll write when I get the chance...I’ll try.”

“Yes... please do. And visit again, anytime.” She encouraged, her smile was sweet as she pulled away. She turned to Francis who was frowning at his shoes. “Francis, dear... say goodbye to your brother now.”

Francis looked up and gazed directly into Monty’s eyes and nodded. He stood up and hugged his waist. “I had a lotta fun today.” He told him.

“I’m glad I met you, Francis,” Monty said, crouching down to give his brother a proper, if brief, hug.

Francis squeezed Monty as they hugged. “Me too.” He whispered. 

Mrs. Montague felt tears beginning to press against her eyes and she pulled out a handkerchief to dap the wetness away. “Shall I walk you out?” She asked him once her two boys pulled apart.

“Don’t trouble yourself,” Monty said, smiling as he stood again. He pecked her cheek once more and ruffled Francis’ hair before heading for the door.

Both his mother and Francis said their goodbyes as he walked out the front door. As soon as he left, Mrs. Montague instructed Francis to quickly wash up in time for his father. Francis did as he was told and the servants helped bathe and dress him just in time for another spot of tea. Mrs. Montague could not hide the fact that Francis had made another tutor quit, as her husband would have contact with the man soon either way. So she had no choice but to explain what had happened earlier. 

The night seemed to have drawn out slowly for Francis.

***

Late that night, Monty arrived at the servants’ door to the kitchen. Working at the inn had taught him that the way to enter a place was usually though the staff entrance, where comings and goings would not be so noted. He slipped inside and began his slow progress through the house, towards the room that had been Francis’ when he had lived there. He went up the stairs and tiptoed down the long corridor. Monty had never been so quiet as he was tonight when he snuck past his parents’ door. It turned out it was much easier to sneak around when one was sober. He carefully opened the door to Francis’ room and stepped inside, searching for his brother until his eyes landed on the bed. He went to it and crouched beside. “Francis?” He asked softly.

Francis’ bed was no longer a crib but rather a small, simple bed like any other four year old would have. He lay on his side, curled up in the dark, with his favorite stuffed bear pressed against his chest, and waited patiently for his brother. Henry?” Francis crawled up to his knees, with his bear in hand, and watched Monty in the moonlight. He smiled, his sore cheek felt larger than usual and it hurt when he showed his teeth but he couldn’t help it. He wrapped his arms around him. “Are we leaving now?”

“Yes,” Monty said softly. He stared at the bruised cheek, feeling a swell of anger in his gut. “Stay in bed and stay quiet, I need to pack some clothes for you.” He instructed his brother, before taking the bag he had brought with him and going to the wardrobe. He began to take out clothing items and shove them into it haphazardly, seeking clothes that seemed warm and durable over the fancy garb he would usually be dressed in. He could feel Francis’ eyes on him as he moved around the room and when he was finished, he slung the bag over his shoulder and went to the bed again. He offered Francis a small smile as he saw his brother’s eyes drooping slightly.

He picked Francis up in his blanket, bundling him in it to keep him warm in the cold night. He made sure Francis had his bear, before moving towards the door. “Now. You have to be completely quiet. Don’t make a sound until I tell you to, do you understand?”

Francis nodded sleepily at Monty’s order. “I’ll be quiet.” He whispered and he lay his head over Monty’s shoulder.

Monty stepped out of the bedroom, cradling his little brother close to him. As silently and stealthily as he had entered, he now exited the house. He knew where all the creaking floorboards were, all the steps that would give away his position. Soon, the cool night air touched their skin as he let them out the kitchen door. A thin drizzle was starting to fall in the night, and Monty paused for a moment to make sure his brother’s head was covered by the blanket before he took off on the long road towards the town where he was staying.

It took longer than Monty would have liked. He did not prepare for how his arms would ache when holding a four-year-old for so long and by the time he arrived at the inn he was soaking wet and panting heavily. All the work he had done in the sunny Santorini did not compare to walking an hour out with cargo as heavy as forty pounds. Nobody was awake this late at night so Monty checked on his sleeping brother before making his way up the steep steps and awkwardly grabbing for the inn key in his back pocket. After he entered and closed the door behind him, he sighed heavily to himself and carefully lowered Francis onto the bumpy bed. 

He removed the wet blanket from where it stuck to his little brother and tucked him in securely before going around the room to get himself ready for bed.

“...Henry…?” Francis’ voice sounded quietly in the small dim room. Monty lifted his head up and quickly threw his shirt on before going to him.

“Hey, Franky…” Monty murmured. “Go back to sleep, alright?”

Francis turned his head, snuggling deeper into the blankets. “Where are we?” He asked, glancing around the room.

Monty smiled and gently caressed Francis’ hair away from his face. “On our adventure, Franky. But you have to sleep for now. We have a long trip ahead of us.” He whispered gently. 

“Oh...Okay.” Francis nodded, closing his eyes and leaning against Monty’s cool hand.

Monty watched him quietly, his eyes finding the bruise on his cheek and feeling the pit of his stomach tighten. He had gotten Francis out of there. _Nobody will be able to hurt him again._ He reminded himself. Monty just hoped Percy wouldn’t kill him when he returned. 

***

Francis was incredibly overwhelmed with each new scenery he and Monty had covered. First was the town his brother was staying in and it was so incredibly different from his home. The beds were odd and the food was plain but this was an adventure that he was excited to partake in. Then there was the long carriage ride across Cheshire and his brother had to explain to him that it would take a very long time to get to the island so they’d have to make several stops, which Francis understood as one more stop each time Monty repeated himself.

It was hard to travel with a four-year-old, Monty found. He had heart attacks whenever he couldn’t immediately see Francis when they walked, and he was always worried Francis would fall out the window when in the carriage. Monty also realized early on that he needed to constantly remind the boy to drink some water and use the bathroom, but Francis never failed to remind him that he was hungry.

There were also some difficult nights, where Francis was more arguable and irritated. Monty was very low with patience some days too. Sometimes Francis would stomp his foot into the ground when he couldn’t get a cinnamon roll or cry when Monty didn’t buy enough so his stuffed bear could eat. Working with a four-year-old was very difficult but Monty knew this would be better than staying home at the manor where their father would hurt him. 

Francis’ bruise on his cheek had healed quite nicely over several weeks of travel, and soon they ended up on a small boat that would take them from island to island. Francis decided very early on that he loved boat rides and told Monty exactly that after the first hour they stepped on one. He held his bear in his hand as he stepped over a small railing to get a better look at there destination. “Look! Monty! It’s San... San... how do you say it again?” He turned to him, his brows rose. He had learned many things on this trip, unexpecting at how vast the world actually was.

“Santorini,” Monty told him, keeping a close watch on Francis. He had learned over the past few weeks to never trust a four-year-old with staying upright when it mattered, as he was apt to fall over at inopportune times and cause himself harm and Monty distress. He reached forward and lifted Francis back to the safe side of the rail. “Mind yourself, you wouldn’t want to lose your friend to those waves.” He warned, nodding to the bear that Francis held.

Francis tucked his bear to his chest and under his arm securely. “Would... would we be able to get him back if I did?” He asked Monty, looking at him with concerned eyes. He did not seemingly have minded Monty picking him up and away from the rail after he spoke about dropping his favorite toy in the ocean.

“Best keep him close, just in case,” Monty said. Then he grinned and whispered conspiratorially. “...although, I happen to know some pirates who might be able to save him...if he ever happened to wind up in the sea.”

"Francis’ little eyes widened even more. “Pirates?” He whispered back loudly. “Really? You’ve met _pirates_ before? Are they nice?” He asked, completely intrigued.

“These ones were, though I’ve heard that most aren’t,” Monty said with a playful grin. “It’s a wonderful story, and you’ll hear it someday when you’re a bit older.”

Francis puffed his cheeks, ready to argue that he was already a big boy but his attention was already drawn away. He watched the bustling movement of the others, many were working, as his brother said, and others were traveling like they were. He had such a busy time on the road he didn’t have time to really think of anything at all. Francis grabbed the edge of Monty’s coat and he leaned in closer to him. “I don’t ever want this trip to end,” Francis confessed.

Monty chuckled softly, ruffling his fingers through Francis’ downy curls. “Aren’t you excited to arrive?” He asked, looking down at him.

“Yeah but... I mean... when it does end. I don’t want it to.” Francis wrapped his arm around Monty’s leg and pressed his head against him as he watched a man walk quickly across the deck.

Monty smiled softly. “Francis, before we arrive, I want to tell you something important. This is another secret, and it’s not one that you can tell anyone. Do you understand?”

Francis looked up at his brother and untangled his arm from Monty’s limb and nodded, almost eagerly. “I won’t tell anybody.” He swore, crossing his heart.

Monty crouched town, resting his hand on Francis’ shoulder. “Do you remember I told you about the person who I love very much? The one we’re going to see as soon as this ship docks?”

Francis nodded and he tried really extra hard to keep eye contact with Monty because his brother was telling him a secret. “Yes. Y-You said they miss you very much.” He replied.

“I did,” Monty said with a soft smile. His gaze fell, and he said quietly. “His name is Percy Newton, and he’s very special to me. I didn’t tell him that you were coming home with me, so he might be a bit....surprised...to see you. But believe me, he will be happy.”

Francis cocked his head to the side as he processed this information. “Is he nice?” He asked him after a moment of silence. Mother said father was her special person but he never believed her since father was mean.

“He’s the nicest person I’ve ever met,” Monty said honestly, glancing off towards their destination and smiling softly. He turned his attention to his brother again after a moment. “He’s a bit taller than me, and a bit darker than the both of us, and he plays the fiddle like an angel.”

Francis nodded intensively. He always made sure to listen carefully to his brother because he wasn’t like the tutors. He always spoke like he was telling a story and, Monty kept his promise to him so Francis worked very hard to listen even when his mind wandered a bit. “How come he’s a secret?” He asked confused. “Mother and father aren’t a secret.”

Monty considered how to answer this. “He’s not really a secret...the secret is that he’s much more than my best friend. Everyone else can only think we’re best friends, but when no one is looking, we like to hold hands. Other people would get mad if they saw this. Do you understand? I know it’s hard.”

Francis frowned and lifted his own hands to inspect, then he looked down at Monty’s. “Why do people get mad?” He asked him quietly.

“They don’t think it’s right for two lads to love each other the way Percy and I do,” Monty explained and offered a grin. “He and I know better.”

“You are smart!” He agreed, returning Monty’s grin and patted the top of his brother’s head. “They are mean. Can Percy play the fiddle for me when I meet him?” He asked. He had never heard someone play the fiddle before.

“Of course!” Monty said with a laugh. He felt a great rush of relief, that Francis didn’t seem alarmed or disgusted by what he had told him. Clearly their father had not yet begun to poison his mind. “He might even let you have a try.” He offered.

Francis’ mouth dropped at that. “Really? He would? Is it hard?” He asked skeptically. “I tried... I tried to play the piano once under mother’s supervision but I did terribly.” He laughed.

“Well - honestly, I’ve never tried,” Monty said with a laugh. He had once or twice made an attempt to wrangle the violin from Percy when he was drunk and playful, but Percy always made a big fuss about it, so Monty has given up that game a long time ago. “I’m sure he’d show you how to do it, and you’d be brilliant.”

Francis grinned up at him. “You really think so?” He questioned. “Nobody has ever said that I’d be bill...brill..e..ent.” He pursued his lips.",

“Of course you’ll be brilliant!” Monty said, surprised. “You’re one of the Montague siblings. How could you _not_ be brilliant?”

Francis’ nose scrunched up as though he was really thinking about it. “I dunno.” He concluded and shrugged. “I think I’m just really, really, _really_ bad at French.” He giggled.

“Well, French is a horrid language,” Monty said with a laugh. “You won’t have any need for it here!”

Francis blew out a breath of relief. “Thank _god._ English is hard enough...” he complained. A seagull squawked loudly above them and his head turned up quickly to find it.

Monty chuckled and ruffled his brother’s hair up. He leaned forward, taking hold of the rail and squinting towards the docks that they were approaching. “I think...” He grinned as he recognized that it was indeed Percy, standing amid the fishermen and dock hands, violin case in hand. Monty grinned and waved his arms wildly in greeting, though they were still a way out.

Francis watched his brother throw his arm back and forth as a wave, grinning brightly towards the island. Francis automatically started to smile and climbed on the first pole on the railing to get a better look at who he’s waving to.

Despite how far out the ship was, Percy could just make out that the one waving like a mad man was his lover. He felt his chest tighten with anticipation, excitement washing over him as he threw his arm up and waved back. He had missed Monty dearly, the bed was cold without him and the inn they worked at was incredibly bleak without his lover there to send him winks and smiles.

“That’s him, there-“ Monty told Francis, wrapping an arm around his brother to keep him safe and pointing at the tiny figure that was Percy. “Look! He’s waving.

Francis squinted his eyes to get a better look and saw a man waving just like Monty had said. “And he’s got his fiddle!” He exclaimed excitedly.

“He does!” Monty agreed with a grin. “We’d best introduce you before you go asking to play it.” The boat drew close to the docks and came against them, ship hands leaping off onto the platform with ropes in hand to tie her up. Soon the gangplank had fallen, and passengers were filing off. Monty took Francis’ hand and held it as he led him down the ramp, their view of Percy blocked now. He held onto Francis’ little hand as they walked toward the crowd, eager to see his lover once again.

On the other side, Percy was attempting his way into the crowd, his joy nearly bursting after he’d seen his lover on the ship. He looked around, using his height as an advantage instead of slouching. “Monty!” He called as he saw that familiar coat. He didn’t see the child as he got closer, too busy squeezing through the crowds to get to him.

“Percy!” Monty greeted, with a wide grin. God, how he wished he could take Percy into his arms and kiss him, like the men who met their wives here did. Instead, he threw his free arm around him and hugged him close, pressing his face to Percy’s collar. “God, I’ve missed you. Are you all right? Any fits while I was away?”

Percy held Monty as close as he dared, his familiar scent mixed in with the salt was incredibly relieving to be near again. “No, no, I’m alright.” He smiled widely. “I missed you so much, Monty... God. That was the longest weeks of my life.” He expressed with a laugh. He pulled away, his eyes searching Monty’s and he wished he could cup his cheek with his hands, bring him close so they could kiss. “How was your mother? And...” he finally noticed the small boy by Monty’s feet. “...did you find a child? Is he lost?” He asked him, confused.

“Hm?” Monty had been ready to kiss Percy, all caution thrown to the wind, but he pulled back and glanced down. “What? No, this is Francis Montague. Don’t you see the family resemblance?”

Percy and Francis blinked at each other. The small boy hugged Monty’s leg, suddenly shyer now that they were on land and Percy was right in front of them. Francis wanted Percy to like him though and right now he looked shocked and confused. “Hello...Sir...” Francis greeted.

Percy looked up at Monty, his brows furrowed and his expression much stricter than before with questions running around in his head. “Francis...” Percy knelt down on one knee. “...hello there. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.” He smiled and he reached his hand to give the smaller boy a handshake. “I’m Percy.”

“Go on, Francis, shake his hand.” Monty prompted gently, smiling down at them. He tried to convey to Percy in his expression that it was urgent that they make Francis feel happy and safe here, that there was a reason for all this, and that he would explain everything as soon as he could.

Francis glanced up at Monty and smiled shyly at Percy but took his hand in his. Percy grinned. “What a gentleman you are.” He praised and stood up. He didn’t miss the apology in Monty’s expression, or his eyes full of love and promise. Percy nodded as if he understood that he’ll soon get answers. “Are you two hungry? Tired?” He asked, wishing he could take Monty’s hand to drag him back home with whatever answer he was given.

“I’m a bit peckish,” Monty admitted and glanced down at his brother. “Francis? Are you hungry, or would you like to go right to the inn?”

“I’m hungry.” He replied and started looking around again with curious eyes.

Percy nodded and looked down at Monty, pressing his arm close to his. “Shall we stop by at the flat first? Your bags look heavy.” He went to grab Francis’ bag to help him.

“They have become a bit of a burden.” Monty agreed with a sigh, hoisting his higher on his shoulders. “Francis, want to sit on my shoulders?” He asked, grinning down at his brother. He didn’t want him to be trampled by the crowds.

Francis’ attention was brought back to his brother and he instantly lit up. “Yes, please!” He lifted his arms up and made grabbing motions with his hands. It seemed like he was the smallest boy in the area and he wanted to see the view. 

Percy pulled the bag over his shoulder and how well Monty acted with Francis. He smiled softly at the young boy, who, now that he paid more attention, could see the family resemblance. Francis had Monty’s dashing smile and the same eye color.

Monty scooped Francis up and settled him on his shoulders, holding onto him as they began to walk. With the boy distracted by the sights, he murmured to Percy. “Don’t be mad, please, darling. Father was beating him.”

Percy’s face ashen upon hearing Monty’s words. He looked at the small boy, who was smiling widely while talking to his bear. “Oh... god, Monty...” he murmured. His shoulder brushed against his lover’s, attempting to give him comfort with what limited contact they had. “...he told you? Was your father there?” He asked him quickly. He had so many questions and concerns running around his mind.

“I figured it out,” Monty replied softly. “No, he wasn’t there. I didn’t see him. I don’t know what would have happened if he saw me - let’s just count our lucky stars that he didn’t.”

Percy let out a troubled sigh. “They’ll be searching for him...” He trailed hopelessly. “...do you believe your mother would confess of your visit?” He asked, his eyes worried for the boys’ safety and their own.

“I honestly don’t know,” Monty admitted with a short sigh. “I tried to keep him hidden while we traveled. Told people he was my son - can you imagine?” He showed a sly grin. “Me, with a son?”

Percy nearly knocked Monty’s shoulder again but thought better of it with the child over his neck. “Monty... you’re going to have to raise him like a son... We will. You got him out of a horrific situation... and I’m not mad at you for that... but... what are we going to do? We both work full time and, don’t know the first thing about children.” He expressed, concerned.

“Well - we’ll learn. I’ve learned these past few weeks. I thought they’d be less leaky at this age, but there’s still a considerable amount of that.” He pulled a face, then tipped his head back a bit to address Francis. “How’s the view up there, captain?”

Francis kicked his legs slightly and squealed. “Better than anybody else!” He stated proudly. He pointed out towards the sea as Monty and Percy continued climbing along with the steps. “There are smaller boats out further away, look!”

“Fishing boats!” Monty told him with a grin, holding onto Francis’ little ankles to prevent the kicking. “Do you like to fish, Francis?”

Francis thought about it and decidedly nodded. “I think so. What do fishing boats do?” He asked curiously. His hands sunk beside Monty’s face and held onto his chin.

“Well, they fish,” Monty said with a laugh. “I don’t know much more than that. Percy, what do fishing boats do?”

Percy was a little startled to have been addressed but he smiled at Francis and said. “Usually one or two men will go out and find lots of fish to bring back to the island.” He explained, drawing out the word ‘lots’ which earned him wide eyes from Francis’ face. “They can earn money. It’s like a job.”

Francis looked back out in wonder. “What if the sea runs out of fish.” He asked worriedly.

“Can’t happen!” Monty said confidently, grinning as the building where they rented came into view. “The ocean is much too big to ever run out.”

“It looked really really big!” He exclaimed. _“This big.”_ Francis extended his arms out to from Monty’s chin to demonstrate.

Percy laughed softly at Francis’ curious mind as he grabbed the key from his coat pocket and unlocked the front door. “Welcome home.” He told them with a grin, swinging the door open and offering them to enter first.

Monty lifted Francis down from his shoulders, setting him on the ground before they stepped in. Francis went deeper into the apartment complex, completely oblivious to his brother and his lover as he went to explore the small living space. And as soon as the door was closed, Monty reached for Percy, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him into a long kiss. He had missed him terribly and needed him so many times throughout the journey. 

Percy let out a surprised noise but relaxed instantly, his arms wrapping around Monty’s shoulders as they kissed, bringing him closer towards him. “God, I missed you so much.” He whispered breathlessly when they briefly parted.

“Be assured, if we didn’t have the child here, I would take you up against this wall right now.” Monty murmured, before pulling away and going to follow Francis. “How about some food, then, my good man?” He called to his brother.

Percy felt himself shiver, his body responding accordingly and he squeezed Monty’s shoulder and quietly gathered himself before making his way into the kitchen. They had dropped their bags by the front door, forgetting about them until they’ve reunited and rested.

Francis was standing up on his tiptoes to look out the window. He twisted his head from hearing Monty’s voice and he nodded eagerly. “Yes, please.” He walked over to him, still looking around as Monty went to the hearth to put on a kettle for tea, then raided their small pantry. He found a loaf of fresh bread and cut three thick slices for them, then located fresh goat cheese which he adorned each slice with. He placed a plate for Francis at his seat, then one to Percy.

Percy gave Monty a quick peck on his cheek and rubbed his back. “Thank you, darling.” He murmured, nuzzling his nose into his neck. He pressed a kiss against a small freckle on his smooth skin and pulled away to help Francis pull out the chair at the table so he could sit in.

Monty leaned against the wall, looking out the window as he ate his lunch. He glanced back and smile at how careful Percy was, pulling out the chair for Francis. When Francis was settled, Monty beckoned Percy over and spoke softly to him. “He’s extraordinarily clever, isn’t he? Are all children like that?”

Percy glanced back over at Francis, his feet kicking wildly under the table and he set his toy in front of him, munching his bread happily. “I’m not sure,” Percy started. “All the children I’ve seen are as energetic as he but as far as how clever they are...” He trailed. “He’s four, am I correct?”

“I haven’t really done the math, but that seems right.” Monty agreed with a shrug. He looked at Percy, then, unable to resist, reached up and cupped his cheek. “...I told him about your fiddle, and he said he wants to learn to play. Isn’t that marvelous? You could teach him.”

Percy leaned into his touch and gave him a soft and loving smile. “I could. He’s a curious little goblin now, huh?” His smile widened at their childhood nickname for the beast. He was surprised at how quickly the change of events occurred and suddenly there was a child in their home.

“Not so goblin-like with a bit of hair and some fine clothing on.” Monty corrected with a soft laugh. He looked at Percy with his pleading eyes. “...he can stay, can’t he? Please?”

Percy sighed, his expression growing serious. His hand rose and settled over Monty’s hand that was over his cheek but he didn’t pull away. “I can’t say no, Monty. Not knowing that your father has caused him harm. But... I’m worried. Money is still fairly tight... and there is a list of concerns we must put into account.” He replied softly.

Monty’s eyes flicked down, worry crossing his features. “...yes, I know. But he’s just one little boy. How much could he cost, really?”

“He’s related to you, Montague.” Percy laughed quietly. “You ate your fill when we were young, don’t you remember?” He teased. “We’ll also have to get him a bed...and...other necessities.“

“I’ve brought some of his clothes.” Monty pointed out, nodding to the bag they had brought. “Although, the journey didn’t do them much good. They weren’t meant to travel in.”

Percy nodded in understanding. “We can go out later, you two should rest and recover from the journey before we shop for anything. I earned some coins while you were away...maybe a tad more.” He smiled a bit shyly before adding. “I got a gig at another restaurant.”

“Percy!” Monty said with a grin. “Congratulations, you fantastic man. I’ve missed getting to hear you play every night.”

Percy couldn’t help but mirror his grin back to him. He stepped closer and dipped his head so his lips could land over his lovers in a slow and tender kiss. “I’ll play for you and Francis tonight.” He promised, his fingers now tangling between his hand.

“Mm...” Monty hummed softly, leaning in to catch Percy’s lips again. “I look forward to it greatly.” He purred softly.

Percy smiled as they kissed. His arm wrapped around his waist to bring him closer, missing his body against his, missing his smile and hands and voice... he missed Monty so much it ached inside him. Sharing a living space had become accustomed and the already little flat they shared felt so big, the empty space almost too loud. Percy let out a thin noise, his breathing stuttering and he leaned against Monty, breathing in his scent to remind him that he was safe and home and he wasn’t leaving again for a long time.

Monty encloses Percy gently in his arms, playing with his hair delicately as he kissed his chin. “...there, now...” He soothed softly. “I’m here now, darling.”

“I missed you,” Percy breathed out. “I was so worried you’d fall in a ditch and never return.” He let out a breathy laugh to dismiss how ridiculous his worry had been now that Monty was home. Still, his eyes looked glassy.

Monty pushed up on his toes to kiss Percy’s eyelids. “Well, I narrowly avoided terrible peril and now I’m home to you, my love.” He told him softly.

Percy hummed quietly and bent his neck so his forehead rested over his lover’s. “And I’m incredibly glad to see you returned in one piece.” He stated lovingly.

"Monty beamed. He glanced towards Francis and said softly. “...I suppose I’ll have to quit my work to stay with him.”

Percy followed his gaze to Monty’s little brother and squeezed him gently. “Maybe you won’t... I’m not certain but it’s quite possible that the inn will allow us to bring him... we’ll be able to easily watch him if we sit him at a table.” He reasoned. “We should also look at schools while we’re at it.” He explained, the skin between his brows creased as he thought.

“He could work with us, too,” Monty said quietly. “It’ll be a harder life for him here in many ways like it was for us. That’s the cost of freedom.”

Percy nodded in agreement. “He’s young too... and very bright. He’ll adapt quickly, I think.” Percy smiled. “When he’s older he’ll have a sturdy head on his shoulders.”

“Unlike some of us Montagues, hm?” Monty said with a chuckle. “We can get him a bit of schooling, and have him do a bit of work. I don’t think this raising a child thing will be as hard as everyone makes it out to be.”

“Possibly...You seem to be very good with him.” Percy observed with a small smile. He took his hand and squeezed it gently. “And he trusted you enough to take him away. That makes it a bit easier, I think.” Percy never thought he’d be able to raise a child, especially not with how often he had his fits. For the fear of accidentally harming the child if one sprang on if he held one or scaring them. His lips thinned and he bent his head lower to Monty’s ear, his voice quiet as he said. “I’m afraid I’ll scare him if I ever had a fit.”

Monty nodded slightly, folding Percy’s hand in his own. “I’ll always be around. I promise. I won’t leave you alone with him if you don’t want that. But he took us being together very well, I’m sure we could explain your fits and then he wouldn’t be scared.”

Percy looked at him sadly. “Even if he was aware of them I think it would still frighten him. It’s much different knowing compared to seeing it...” He trailed. “...there might be a time where I need to take him while you’re out. I’m okay with that but I‘ll still worry.” He explained.

“I...” Monty’s brow furrowed, worried about this burden that he had brought on Percy. “I’m sorry. We’ll resolve this...somehow.”

Percy shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize, Monty. I would rather have him safe than you have done nothing.” Percy kissed his forehead. “I just want to keep it in the back of the mind.” He clarified.

Monty nodded. He hugged Percy and pressed his face into his chest, letting out a soft sound. “How could father...how could he hurt such a tiny little thing.” He asked softly.

Percy’s raised his arms and traced circles with his finger over his shoulder. He shot another glance at the small boy, talking idly to nobody in particular. A familiar hurt pressed over his chest, imagining Francis cupping his cheek with fear and confusion written over his sweet face. 

The image in his head was awfully similar to Monty’s feared expression. “Your father is cruel and cold. He doesn’t see the good and the innocence that he threatens to ruin.” He held Monty close. “I don’t know how he could live with himself, hurting his children as he has.” He replied softly.

“It’s not the same...” Monty murmured. He turned his face so he could lean his cheek to Percy’s chest and watch the boy. “Francis is a smart little thing, like Felicity.”

Percy hummed sadly. “Francis is bright... he didn’t deserve any of it. There is no telling of the repercussions that he has endured due to your father’s abuse. But that doesn’t mean that you deserved the same treatment either.” He reminded gently.

“I know,” Monty said softly, though he wasn’t sure if he could see how he had been something so small and happy as Francis was.

Percy turned his head and kissed the crown of Monty’s head. “We’ll keep an eye on him... we won’t be able to protect him from everything but we can be there and help him through it,” Percy reassured.

Monty smiled faintly, nodding against Percy. “Thank you.” He said softly.

Percy buried his nose in Monty’s hair and gave him a squeeze. He wondered if Francis would remember any of his abuse when he grew - if he would forget over the years until those awful memories disappeared completely. It wasn’t like Monty, who gained those memories over time up until he was eighteen. Monty had gotten Francis out early but he didn’t know if the damage was already made.

Francis took the last bite of his bread and chewed leisurely, his eyes darting around the room until falling over Monty and Percy as they embraced. To him, it wasn’t any strange or different to see them hugging because in his mind it was the same as when he hugged Monty. He smiled at his brother when they made eye contact, chewed food still in his mouth in display before closing it to swallow. Then he rubbed his eye with a tiny fist.

Monty glanced at his brother and smiled faintly. He pulled away from Percy and went to pat Francis’ shoulder. “How about you wash up and get ready for bed?” He suggested. “Perce, can you fetch a bit of water?”

Percy nodded and walked back into the kitchen to grab what he needed. 

Francis looked up at Monty and pouted. “Am I to take a bath?” He asked him unhappily.

“We both need one, you know,” Monty said with a laugh. “I reek from all that travel. Don’t worry, I shan’t make you get in a tub. We can’t afford one, anyway. Just a quick wash up and some clean clothes, and then to bed.”

Percy returned with two dry cloths in his hand and a medium-sized bucket that had been filled half-way with warm water from the kettle and started walking towards their washing room. “If you follow me, Francis, I’ll show you where you can wash up.” He said with a soft smile. He waited until Francis got up from his seat and grabbed his bear before making his way into a small room to set the supplies down for them.

While Percy led Francis to the washroom, Monty went to their bedroom and dug out something clean - a white shirt and trousers of Percy’s that he could wear, and a shirt if his own that would do for sleepwear for the boy. 

They had a quick washing up, Monty being just as much of a baby as Francis about getting his hair wet, before dressing. Monty dropped the shirt onto Francis’ tiny frame and laughed at how oversized it was. He scooped him up carefully and carried him to the bed. It was still early afternoon, but Monty felt drained after their long journey.

Francis had dipped his head down to his brother’s collar, arms tucked between his chest and Monty’s shoulder. His eyes drooped as he was carried to another room with a bed bigger than the one he had at home. Francis didn’t want to admit to Monty that he kinda sorta missed his home, but not because they had maids, or a tub, or a fresh meal, but because it was familiar. He wasn’t scared though because he had Monty and his brother was a superhero in his eyes.

Francis must have closed his eyes because the next moment he opened them again, he was being carefully laid down in the middle of the bed, his head lolling on one of the pillows. “Feels like I’m on... a cloud,” Francis mumbled out.

Monty smiled softly down at him, as he lay Francis into bed and pulled the soft sheets up to his chin. “Close your eyes and dream about the clouds.” He instructed him softly, as he settled down on his side of the bed.

“M’kay.” Francis sighed out sleepily. His eyes drooped to a close for a moment before snapping back open again. “Wait! Before I dream of clouds I must tell you something.” He seriously stated. He turned his head to face Monty.

Percy poked his head from the doorway and grabbed Monty’s attention. “I’m going to practice outside if you need me.”

“Hm? Alright.” Monty called to Percy, then looked at his brother. He smiled, propping himself up on one elbow. “What must you tell me so urgently?”

When Percy left, Francis grabbed Monty’s cheeks with his small hands. He squished his face slightly, getting distracted at the feeling of Monty’s scratchy stubble before looking up in his eyes. “...You’re the best brother in the _whole_ world and - and I love you and thank you.” He dropped his hands away from his face, said what he needed to say, and curled into the covers to get comfortable.

Monty stared at his brother, touched, and surprised by the words. He didn’t think Felicity had ever said that he was a good brother. He wanted to hug Francis, but instead, he left him alone and lay on his own side, smiling softly as he watched the little boy fall asleep, before sleeping into dreams himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you'd like to read a specific scene go ahead and send a prompt in the comments below or send me a message on Tumblr at bi-bliotaph! I'll be uploading more stories about these three so stay tuned :) Don't forget to comment!


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